


Star

by PlayingTheGameOfThrones



Series: Marked [3]
Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-06
Updated: 2018-06-09
Packaged: 2019-05-18 20:30:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14859747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PlayingTheGameOfThrones/pseuds/PlayingTheGameOfThrones
Summary: Meredith’s smile was sad. She took her son’s hand in her own and ran her thumb over the darkening shape of a sword on his wrist. “Your Mark’s coming in nicely,” she remarked. “Your Marked must be a fighter.”





	1. Chapter 1

Gamora sat curled in her mother’s lap, watching the sun set over their planet as her mother unwound the long braids Gamora was fond of wearing since she started school earlier that year. This had become their nightly ritual since Gamora’s father and younger sister had passed away, leaving Gamora and her mother alone but for each other. Life was difficult on their planet, but it was moments like this – her mother’s fingers moving gently against her scalp, the cool autumn breeze on her skin, the setting sun painting the world around her in shades of orange – that Gamora was reminded life was still beautiful, too.

“There you are.” Gamora’s mother patted her daughter’s head as the last braid unfurled.

“Thank you, Mother,” Gamora said with a relieved sigh. Her head ached after a long day of her braids pulled tight. She straightened up in her mother’s lap and looked for shapes in the clouds, another of their nightly rituals.

“Your Mark is beginning to darken,” her mother said, running her finger over the star on Gamora’s inner wrist. “It’s turning red. A star. Your destiny lies beyond our planet. That’s good.” But her voice was soft and sad.

Gamora frowned. Normally, the star on her wrist that was meant to represent the person she would fall in love with was one of her favorite topics. But every day since Gamora’s father died, her mother’s own Mark has faded a little bit with each day that separated them. Gamora wondered if it would one day be indistinguishable from her skin, as if it had never existed. “I’m sorry, Mother.”

Her mother smiled and squeezed Gamora’s hand. “I’m happy for you, Gamora. Never be sorry.”

Gamora nodded and leaned back against her mother’s chest. She could feel her mother’s heart beating in tandem with her own, her mother’s skin warm against her back. Together they watched the sun sink below the horizon, and together they watched a strange circle appear in the sky where the first star should have been.

  
***

  
Peter Quill winced as his mother pressed a pack of ice to his blackening eye.

“I told you to stop fighting those boys at school,” Meredith chided, clucking her tongue at his wincing.

“He was making fun of me,” Peter muttered. “And you, too,” he added quietly.

“Why was he making fun of you?” Meredith asked, though she suspected she already knew why. She didn’t need to ask why they were making fun of _her_.

“For not having a dad.”

“Did you show him your picture?” Peter had taken to carrying around a photograph of David Hasselhoff he’d cut out of a magazine. She wasn’t sure it was the best idea to ward off questions about his father, but neither she nor Peter had any other ideas.

Peter shrugged. “Didn’t work. He called you a bad name.”

Meredith sighed. “I’m sorry, Pete. Did you tell him your daddy was gonna come back for you as soon as he can?”

Peter didn’t say anything. The older he got, the less he believed his father was ever returning from wherever he had disappeared to before Peter was even born. But he couldn’t tell his mother that. He saw the faraway look in her eyes she got whenever she spoke about him, that look she so rarely wore anymore. After a moment of silence, he said, “Don’t be sorry, Mom. Not your fault.”

Meredith’s smile was sad. She took her son’s hand in her own and ran her thumb over the darkening shape of a sword on his wrist. “Your Mark is coming in nicely,” she remarked. “Your Marked must be a fighter.”

“Will you ever tell me about yours?” Peter lowered the ice pack from his eye. He had been asking his mother about the blue heart imprinted in her wrist for as long as he could understand what a Mark meant. He had gathered enough from her silence on the subject to guess her Mark didn’t represent whoever his father had been.

Meredith ruffled her son’s hair and tried to smile. “Not tonight. Maybe when you’re older.”

“Okay, Mom.” Peter tried his best to understand.

“Now. Why don’t we cook some dinner and play some music? We can go over to your grandpa’s later and stargaze if you like.”

Peter knew she was just trying to distract him from the subject, but he didn’t mind. He smiled and nodded. “Of course, Mom.”


	2. Chapter 2

Gamora stood on the bridge of the Quadrant, watching the last of the fireworks fade. She could still faintly see the outline of a glowing arrow against the backdrop of the stars, and she was reminded of her sister and her mission to kill their fath – Thanos. She had to stop thinking of that man as their father. Her father had been the man with green skin like her own and a kind smile who had died on her home planet what felt like a thousand years ago now. She wondered what her true father would think of her now, if he would even recognize her. She felt grief tug at her heart in a way it hadn’t in years and she searched for Peter, wondering how much worse he must feel with his own grief fresh in his mind. She wasn’t certain when he had left the bridge or where he had gone.

“Mantis,” she asked the girl standing beside her, still gazing in wonderment out at the sky. “Have you seen Quill?”

The girl nodded, her antenna bobbing along. “I think he went to the captain’s quarters,” she answered.

Gamora nodded and thanked her, taking her leave of the bridge and Mantis and Rocket who still stood there.

“Peter?” she called as she searched down hallway after hallway for him. She was unfamiliar with this ship and its layout, but when her ears caught the sound of a faint whimpering and sniffling, it wasn’t long before she found him sitting on the edge of what must have been Yondu’s bed, the Zune Kraglin had given him cradled in his hands.

“Peter,” Gamora said softly from the doorway.

Peter looked up at her and hastily wiped away his tears, the instinct to hide his emotions in fear of reprisal still strong from his years of being raised by the Ravagers. “Gamora!” he said, too brightly for the tears he had just wiped away. “How are you doing? I’m doing fantastic, just really, really great.” He wiped his nose with the back of his hand and Gamora suppressed a shudder. Really, his hygiene was terrible, though she supposed that was another side effect of being raised by space pirates.

“Peter, you don’t have to pretend in front of me,” Gamora reminded him, perching on the edge of the bed beside him.

“I know,” Peter said, his eyes already glimmering with unshed tears. “Force of habit.”

“I understand.” Thanos had also attempted to force any sentimentality out of herself and Nebula and the rest of their siblings.

“I just,” Peter started, a hitch catching in his throat, “miss him so much already.”

“I know,” she said, and let him tuck his head into the crook of her neck.

His shoulders shuddered quietly as she felt warm tears soaking into her skin. She had never learned how to comfort others, but she rubbed her hand up and down his back softly and that seemed to help, because he smiled up at her, tears still glistening on his cheeks, and said, “Thank you, that feels nice.”

It struck Gamora then that Peter was probably as unused to softness as she was, and, feeling a rush of affection for her soulmate, bent down and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“That felt nice too.”

Gamora laughed.

  
***

  
Peter watched Gamora’s eyelids flutter as she slept beside him and he wondered what she was dreaming about, if it was a good dream or a bad dream. He hoped it was a good dream. He would do his best to make certain she never again had a reason to have bad dreams.

His heart was still racing in his chest from his own bad dream, wherein he had watched, helpless, as Yondu crumbled in his fingers like Ego had, the planet collapsing beneath his feet until he found himself falling faster and faster through black, empty space. He knew, with all the things Gamora had seen and done, that she probably had bad dreams as frequently as he did.

He brushed a lock of hair away from her face, his heart swelling with love for her. He caught sight of the red star on the inside of her right wrist out of the corner of his eye and he smiled to himself, running his thumb softly over the Mark. He could still remember the first time he saw her, how he had felt a rush of hope that she was his Marked, how he was finally sure when he saw the sword she kept always at her side. 

“Peter,” Gamora mumbled, cracking one eye open. “What are you doing?” Sleep was still thick in her voice.

“You’re so beautiful,” he answered. “Go back to sleep.”

Gamora smiled faintly before snuggling into his chest. They fell back asleep like that, tangled in each other’s arms, and their dreams were sweet.


End file.
